I'll be 54 1/2. If there's still such thing as a pension, that's when I'm gonna retire. Maybe sooner. I'm almost half way there, in terms of years of service.
My Dad retired at 51. He got it right. Granted, he uses the time to do things like go to garage sales and buy things like partially operational meat grinders. Why? Because it's made of cast aluminum of course! Cast aluminum is beautiful. He's got the right idea because he does whatever he wants and nobody is his boss. That freedom is worth a lot. Most of us start life with a great deal of freedom and health, but no authority. It would be nice idea to enjoy some of the tail end of life with freedom, health and authority all intact.
What's spawning these thoughts? Tonight, I went to a viewing of a co-worker. He died the year after he retired. Luckily, he enjoyed those working years and (in my opinion) payed attention to what was most important in life.
And that ain't work.
Either I'm more perceptive this year, or someone's trying to send me a message. I work closely with some people who are obsessed with their careers. I can't say if these people are my bosses or not, because if they read this blog they might fire me. They carry around their Blackberry, they hand out their cell phone number encouraging that we call 24/7 if needed. They work long long hours. They lose their identity as their work becomes it. I often attend meetings with people who are introduced as someone who "flunked retirement". That is, they retired after working some forty odd years, then decided they didn't like it and came back to work full time.
Drones!
I'm not espousing being a lazy ass. There's enough of those. It's rewarding to be a professional and do a good job. I am saying I can't understand what makes workaholics tick. I can try to empathize. It's enticing to become wrapped up in it all. At work, you might have people in your ear telling you all sorts of encouraging stuff; "We need you, Mike", "You're doing a good job, Mike"..."Blah blah blah good stuff about Mike, Mike". People you work with have to say stuff like this because sans paycheck, they realize it is your only reward. They have to make you feel needed.
BUT, there's a difference between being "needed" and being "convenient". In the workplace, you are almost always more the latter than the former. You can be replaced at the drop of a hat. This is also true for relationships outside of the workplace. But, I'll try to stay focused today.
All I can say is I'm getting a friggin' "A" in retirement when it's my turn. I like my line of work, but I can certainly...ya know...think of better things I'd do if I had the choice?
Like..whatever I want to do in 2024. Even if I'm buying parts of meat grinders.
Now let's pray I don't get hit by a truck until then.
About Me
- Mick
- In 1968, a baby boy was born and his parents named him Michael. As a cute little zero year old, he had a little round nose and made gurgly noises. But, he also had colic which tired his mama out and his grandmother often rocked him to sleep. One night, while doing this, she nicknamed him "Mickey" and that is why people also call him Mick. He grew up in upstate New York in a place too remote to be called anything. There were a lot of bugs and his Dad yelled at him for using too many paper towels. Little Mickey tried to have fun playing war with his friends and shooting BB guns. He didn't apply himself very much in school and he graduated high school Magne Cum Lousy. One day in 1986 he discovered a lump in his neck which he promptly ignored for more than 6 months. As fate would have it, it was Hodgekin's Disease and after months of dicking around with inept doctors, he promptly underwent aggressive treatment involving brutal tests and chemotherapy. This lasted a year followed by many years of paranoia. This is where he learned to suffer and it payed great dividends. Now he teaches 13th grade at a college in Ohio where he suffers daily.
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